CHAPTER 19
THREE POINTS
To be left alone in the cave with only the unconscious Miquel for companion, was an eerie experience, Dan discovered.
A dreadful quiet settled upon the dark chamber once Red and Brad had gone. Dan sat with his back against a projecting rock, within reach of the old man, should he stir.
The chill of the cavern began to creep into his bones. He arose to feed the fire, noticing that there was very little wood. Scarcely enough to burn another twenty minutes. He dared not venture in search of more, lest the old Indian fully revive in his absence.
For a long while after his companions had gone, Dan sat listening to the melancholy slap of the waves at the mouth of the cave. He could not estimate time very accurately. But as the fire burned lower, he reasoned that Brad and Red should have reached the camp.
At any moment now, he encouraged himself, help would arrive. He hoped that Brad and Red would get there in time to compete in the pow-wow. If they did, his own sacrifices would be well worth while.
Old Miquel moaned and rolled over on the rock floor.
Instantly alarmed, Dan got to his feet, to place himself between the man and the edge of the pool.
Feeling inadequate to the situation, he rearranged the blanket, tucking it more closely about the figure. Old Miquel’s hands were icy cold and clammy to the touch. The cave was cold and, in addition, the elderly man’s clothing was wet.
“He may not last long unless Brad gets back here with help,” Dan thought. “Wish I could do something besides just sit and wait.”